Leaving Amarillo

by Caisey Quinn

  “Dix?” Robyn Breeland’s emerald eyes are slightly pink around the rims but bright as always. “You in here?”

  I sit up and shove my blankets into a heap at my feet. “Hey. Sorry for bailing on everyone out there. I wanted to see you. I just—”

  “Do not apologize for not wanting to entertain guests after your grandfather’s funeral.”

  I smile as she sits beside me on my bed, noticing how polished and sophisticated she looks. She’s wearing more makeup than she used to and the light smattering of freckles across her nose is hidden beneath it. Her black dress and tweed jacket fit her petite figure perfectly.

  “You look really great, Rob. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  She nods, slipping her high heels off and letting them fall to the floor. “It’s been crazy with my new job and everything. But I saw the pictures from Austin online and I overheard someone saying y’all had a showcase in Nashville.”

  My chest aches at the memory of the showcase. “It wasn’t just ours. It was kind of an audition type deal with several bands. We were just able to get a spot at the last minute.”

  Robyn’s eyes scrutinize my face and I know she’s looking for clues as to what I’m not saying. She’s always been the kind of friend who just sort of got me without my having to explain much. “Gavin said it went well. He also said y’all signed with a manager. That sounds exciting.”

  I shrug because it was exciting, but not so much anymore. Not since the woman I thought would be my ticket to escaping music school basically benched me.

  “I guess. It all seems kind of inconsequential right now, though.”

  “Well I think that’s a sufficient amount of small talk.” Robyn trains her concerned stare on me. “How are you doing? I mean, really doing.”

  This is where I’m supposed to smile and put on a brave face. I should tell her it’s hard but I’m hanging in there. That he’s with Nana and in a better place and that I’ve made my peace with that. But the thread I’m hanging by is in danger of snapping. And it’s Robyn. So I pull my legs underneath me and wrap my arms around my pillow.

  “I don’t know, Rob. I’d just talked to him. I was going to make him meat loaf and he sounded fine. And then . . . and then . . . Mrs. Lawson called and the world stopped spinning.”

  The corners of Robyn’s mouth turn down. “God, I’m so sorry, Dix. He was such an amazing man and I know how close the two of you were, how much he meant to you.” She wraps an arm around me and leans over enough that we’re shoulder to shoulder, holding each other up. “He was like a father to me after my dad passed away. I can remember walking in your house in sweats and with my hair in a sloppy bun on Saturday mornings and Papa always greeted me the same way.”

  The silence is broken by my sniffle.

  “Hey, pretty girl,” we say quietly together because that’s how Papa greeted us no matter what. He was an old-school southern gentleman at heart. Always had been.

  Robyn sits up a bit, allowing me to shift a little more of my weight onto her. “Remember that time he caught Dallas and Gavin trying to buy beer at the Stop-N-Shop?”

  Half of a laugh escapes me. “Oh God. How could I forget? He made them sit at the kitchen table and drink that entire twelve-pack of that awful cheap junk they were trying to buy.”

  “Bet they wished they’d gone for a six-pack instead.”

  I nod against her shoulder. “Gavin held his own, even back then. But Dallas puked his guts up all night long.”

  “And then he had to escort me to my National Honor Society Luncheon at the Chamber of Commerce the next day. He had to wear a tie and everything. He was so hungover he tried to wear his sunglasses through the entire thing.”

  We both giggle a little. I’d forgotten that part. Robyn had won an award for planning a community service project that I think involved cleaning up litter or something and she’d given a speech in front of the mayor. Despite his condition, my brother had been there supporting her just as she sat through our band rehearsals and bowling alley and birthday party concerts. I remember envying the way they watched one another. It had looked like forever in their eyes to me back then. But maybe I was just young and naïve.

  “I heard him,” I say evenly. “Through the window earlier. I know he’s being kind of an ass, but you know how he is about emotional situations.”

  Robyn waves her hand. “I know. And it’s your grandfather’s funeral. Like I said, y’all don’t have to entertain folks and be friendly. You just lost a loved one. It’s understandable.”

  Despite her words, I can hear the wounded undercurrent flowing beneath them. Whether she’ll admit it or not, Dallas hurt her feelings. Nearly three years might have passed since they were technically a couple, but I could still hear the affection in her voice. Contemplating their issues is a welcome relief from my own.

  “He never said why y’all broke up. I don’t even think Gavin knows.”

  Robyn takes an audible breath that morphs into a sigh. “Some days, I don’t even remember why. But mostly we were just young and heading in different directions. I was in college, and he wanted to focus more on the band. Dallas didn’t want to leave Papa all alone so soon after your grandma died and he wanted to work until he had enough money to pay for a demo. I think he thought y’all would have some substantial plans lined up for the band before you left for Houston.”

  I frown even though she can’t see my face directly. “But we didn’t. We placed third in the State Fair Sound Off, which won us a thousand bucks but only really resulted in a few congratulatory handshakes since I’d already accepted my scholarship.”

  Mandy’s words about me holding the band back steal into my mind.

  “But now it sounds like things are looking up. For the band, at least.” I stiffen and Robyn pulls back to look at me. “Aren’t they?”

  I try to force my shoulders to shrug nonchalantly. They’re too heavy to cooperate. “Sort of. Actually our new manager is not really mine or Oz’s biggest fan.”

  “Why? What do you mean, not your biggest fan?”

  “She suggested I sit out the encore at the showcase.”

  Robyn’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows rise almost to her hairline. “Did you suggest she go fuck herself?”

  I can’t help but smile at her outrage. I shake my head. “No.” A heavy breath escapes, taking some of my shame at sitting out with it. Feels good to be able to tell someone. “I was nervous and kind of jittery so she said I should sit out and let Dallas have the spotlight. And she knew some stuff . . . about me and Gavin so . . .”

  “So . . . there’s stuff about you and Garrison now? Stuff she used to blackmail you into sitting out? What the hell, Dix? That’s messed up.”

  I sit up straighter and watch my fingers twist into my comforter. “Yeah. I know. It’s just, it was just one song and—”

  “And nothing. Did you tell your brother?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Dixie Leigh Lark. You need to talk to Dallas. Like sooner rather than later.”

  I huff out my frustration and release the comforter. “And say what, Robyn? By the way, D, Gavin and I are sleeping together and our new manager threatened to tell you if I didn’t sit my ass down and stop blowing your shot at making it big?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t have to see the expression of shock on Robyn’s face.

  “I see,” she says quietly. “So Garrison finally defied your brother and made a move. Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”

  “No,” I say softly while shaking my head. “I finally made a move.”

  “Nice,” Robyn says grinning appreciatively at me. “Good for you, girl.”

  “It’s complicated. With everything that’s happened, I have no idea where we stand.”

  She smiles sympathetically at me. “I bet. But you’ll figure it out. And you’ve loved each other forever, I can’t imagine you won’t have a happy ending.”

  “Enough about me,” I say, eager to push away t
he messy confusion building inside of me. “Tell me what’s been going on with you.”

  Robyn’s eyes brighten several shades. “Um, I have the best job ever. And I just got a promotion. Midnight Bay is sponsoring Jason Wade’s next tour, and they just put me in charge of the promotional campaign.”

  Midnight Bay Bourbon is a thriving liquor distributor out of Dallas that hired Robyn immediately after she interned there in college. I had no idea they were sponsoring Wade’s next tour. I’ve seen him a few times in concert but don’t know him personally.

  “Robyn, that’s awesome. Jason Wade is a huge freaking deal. What’s he like?”

  She shrugs and blushes. Robyn. Blushing. This is a new development.

  “He’s kind of a flirt. But you know, that country-boy macho-swag persona. Who knows if he means half of what he says?”

  “Who knows if any of them mean half of what they say?”

  We laugh and talk about her job for a few more minutes and I am grateful for the distraction. But soon she has to go, and I am alone again with memories and ghosts.

  Chapter 31

  “I DON’T KNOW, DAMN IT. I TOLD YOU I’M GOING TO TALK TO HER.”

  Raised voices nearby threaten to drag me from the safe womb of sleep and I try to burrow deeper into my covers.

  “Because he was late and saw the encore where it was just the two of us. That’s all she said.”

  Dallas. It’s Dallas practically shouting at someone in the next room.

  Groaning as I try to untangle myself from my quilt, I sit up and rub my eyes. The pearls I fell asleep in are cutting into the skin on my neck and my dress is twisted around my waist.

  Glancing over at the alarm clock on my nightstand I see that it’s a little past nine.

  I expected to wake up in a hotel but it’s my own bedroom that greets me. I can’t believe I slept all night. The past twenty-four hours comes back all at once and my head throbs at the flood of memories of nodding and hugging and assuring everyone that I was okay.

  Dallas is still arguing with the other voice that I’ve discerned as Gavin’s while I strip off my pearls and my dress and find a pair of jeans and a clean shirt to put on. Once I’m dressed, I join them in the living room to see what all the fuss is about.

  “I don’t want us to miss out on this, either, but you can’t afford to get—”

  “Morning.” Gavin cuts my brother off by greeting me with excess enthusiasm. It’s an overly obvious attempt to ensure that my brother will pause his monologue long enough to turn around and see that I’ve entered the room.

  “Morning, Dixie Leigh,” my brother says gently. “Sleep okay?”

  “I did until you woke me up hollering at each other. What’s going on?”

  They exchange wary glances and I get the distinct impression no one in this room plans to fill me in.

  “Ugh. I’m going back to bed,” I say, preparing to turn around and return to my quilt cocoon.

  “Wait,” Dallas begins in a resigned tone. “Dix, we need to talk.”

  Sighing, I perch on the edge of Papa’s chair and nod at my brother. “Okay. Talk.”

  Gavin shoots me a concerned look, but I ignore it. I take in his jeans and human evolution shirt that shows man evolving from an ape to an upright and then sitting behind a drum kit. I wonder if he stayed here last night or went home and saw his mom. I don’t get a chance to ask because Dallas rushes on.

  “Barry Borscetti heard us at the showcase in Nashville. He was late but he caught the encore and he was really impressed. Mandy said he rarely reaches out to anyone and he wants to schedule a private audition with us to see if we’d be a good fit for an upcoming unsigned artists tour.”

  “Barry who?”

  I look at Gavin to see if this is a new name to him as well but it looks as though he and my brother have already covered this part without me.

  “He’s a major label executive,” Dallas informs me. “One of the founders of Clear the Air Records and now a higher-up for Universal.”

  Universal is a huge label—the largest in the business and it’s a major deal that anyone there would be interested in us, but I nod for him to continue instead of fainting in surprise at the enormity of this. I can barely hear the rest of what he says, though, because one particular statement is playing on repeat and drowning him out.

  He was late but he caught the encore and he was really impressed.

  I struggle to hear much else. This guy liked the encore in Nashville, the one song that I wasn’t a part of.

  “Dixie? You still with me?” My brother is giving me the strangest look and I feel as if part of my mind might still be in bed asleep.

  “Sorry, Dallas. Just tired. Go on. You were saying that Barry’s a major player and was impressed.”

  My brother nods but his eyes are much less excited about continuing this conversation. “There’s more. Mandy said if he gets us on this tour the next step is likely a major deal from Universal.”

  Rubbing my temples, I lean forward and prop my elbows on my knees. The thought of going back out on the road when there is so much to do here is unnerving to say the least.

  “The thing is, we’d have to leave tonight. The audition is in Nashville . . . and it’s tomorrow.”

  My head snaps up and Dallas nods like he was expecting my oncoming panic attack.

  “Mandy couldn’t buy us any more time than that? She couldn’t explain that we just had a death in the family?”

  “It’s not like it’s up to her, Dixie Leigh. This is just an opportunity. Gavin and I were discussing it and letting you rest. Now that we’re all three here, we can decide whether we want to pursue it or not.”

  “There’s just so much to do here, Dallas. There’s so much . . .”

  He nods his understanding. “I know there are a million things to deal with here—settling Papa’s estate and handling the headstone order and all of that, but that will still be here when we get back.”

  “Which, if we get added to this tour, might be a while,” Gavin points out.

  I feel sick, dizzy, and overwhelmed. Like the train driving my life is barreling past me, driven by someone else, and I can either grab on or let go and watch it pass.

  I just don’t have the strength to chase after it right this second.

  “Tell her all of it, D. She needs to know the truth.”

  Turning to Gavin for further explanation, and wondering if I’m finally going to hear what they’ve been behaving so strangely about, I’m annoyed when he puts his hands up and redirects the floor to my brother.

  Dallas sighs and sinks onto the armchair Papa loved so much. “He doesn’t . . . Barry didn’t . . . Mandy wasn’t able to convince Barry that he needed to see all three of us to make his decision about adding us to the tour.”

  I should feel something. Shocked maybe? Hurt? Anger? And yet, I feel slightly relieved. I don’t want to run back out on the road and leave Papa’s memory and his house in disarray. So if I can sit this audition out, I’m okay with that.

  I give my brother the best reassuring smile that I can. “That’s okay, Dallas. If this guy doesn’t need me there to audition, then I don’t need to be there. No big.”

  Both he and Gavin shift nervously as if they’re attached at some location not visible to me.

  “It’s more complicated than that, Dix. But it doesn’t matter.” My brother’s words come out in a jumbled mess resembling a multi-car pileup on the interstate. “Barry just wanted to put me and Gavin with another guitar player he’s trying to get on the tour and then he’d probably just cut us loose. But like I told Mandy, and like I was just attempting to explain to Gavin, it doesn’t matter. Great as it is that he’s interested, we all go or none of us do.”

  “Dallas, I don’t mind sitting out an audition, for goodness sakes. If this is a huge break then you should—”

  “It’s not a huge break for the band,” my brother rushes out over the rest of my sentence. “It’s not the band he wants added to the to
ur. The offer doesn’t include plane tickets for all three of us, Dix. And it’s not all three of us that would go on the tour if he likes the audition.”

  His shoulders slump as he watches me finally get it. Now I feel something. A lot of somethings that I can’t accurately identify.

  But mostly, I feel fear. Sheer terror, actually, at the idea of Dallas hanging around Amarillo forever waiting for the band to get discovered and passing up opportunities he should be grabbing on to with both hands.

  “Dallas, maybe you should—”

  “No,” he says, reprimanding me with his tone and his glare simultaneously. “We all go or none of us go and that’s that.”

  “But—”

  My brother cuts me off sharply. “It’s not up for discussion. I’m telling Mandy and Barry both thanks, but no thanks.”

  Gavin says something that I don’t catch because there is another man’s voice in my head.

  “Take care of each other,” the voice says. My breath hitches the moment I recognize it.

  My dad’s words. The command my brother has likely been trying to follow in honor of our parents’ memory for the past ten years. He’s done a good job taking care of me. But standing here watching him commit a completely selfless and completely foolish act of sacrifice, I know now that it’s time I did the same for him.

  Hours have passed and my brother paces across the living room floor, following the well-worn path in the hardwood. His suitcase is by the door. I know because I packed it.

  “I told you, I’ll handle this. We’ll put you on keyboard or something until Barry warms up to the idea of a fiddle during live shows. You’ve got to be in the studio for recording sessions when it comes time to record the demo anyway, Dix. Please don’t bail on me when I need you the most.”

  His eyes are dark with intensity while he pleads his case and as much as a part of me wants to do as I’ve always done and follow wherever he leads, I know it’s time.

  We’ve been having this same argument for the past two hours and we’re out of time. Either they go now or they won’t make their flight.